Footsteps in the Past
by PathOfThorns
Summary: AU Sam and Dean are seperated at birth, and grow up without knowledge of the others existence. Nineteen years later, the boys are reunited under unlikely circumstances as Sam runs into what Dean is hunting. Full summary inside. R&R please!
1. Chapter 1

**So this is just another idea I thought up :P**

Summary: Sam and Dean were separated the day Sam was born, and never even knew of the other's existence. John takes Sam and Mary takes Dean, so Dean is raised in the hunter life while Sam isn't. Nineteen years later John disappears and Sam goes looking for him, and ends up running into what Dean is hunting. Things go from there with the boys meeting each other and not knowing that they're brothers, but they will eventually find out (if I decide to continue this :D)

R&R please!

Disclaimer: I don't own them, they belong to Sera *grrr*

Dad is missing. Missing as in gone. Gone as in disappeared off the face of the fucking planet.

Sam's mind whirled with the thought as fear dug its frigid claws into his lungs, suffocating him in its cold embrace. Regret was right up there alongside fear too, because the last thing he had sad to Dad was that he hated him. It was a stupid argument over college. Sam wanted to go but his Dad didn't, he said it was too dangerous for him to go out on his own.

Sam called bullshit on that; he was nineteen for God's sakes! He was technically an adult according to the law and was even allowed to smoke if he wanted to. Not that he did, but it was the thought that counted. Sam was an adult and he chose to go to college. His father, however, refused to see things his way, so Sam got mad and said some things he didn't necessarily mean.

Well he was regretting it now because by the time he got home that night after storming out, his Dad was gone. He just vanished into thin air. All his stuff was still in the motel room, his duffel bag, his toiletries, hell all the papers for his current job were still there. The only thing missing was him.

Sam was frantic with worry by the time he called Ellen, the only other person he knew that may know where his Dad had gone. He was pacing back and forth over the dirty motel rug as the phone rang and rang and rang. "Come on" He muttered into the phone as if saying something would make her pick up faster.

Finally it cut off and a feminine voice filtered through the receiver. "Hello? This is the Roadhouse, what can I do for you?"

Sam breathed a sigh of relief, forcing his legs to stop their pacing. "Ellen. Thank God. Look, Dad is missing and I don't know where he could have gone. You know anything?"

"Sam? Oh sorry, boy. I don't have any idea where that man got off to. You sure he didn't just go to the bar or something?" All hope he had of Ellen holding the answer shattered at her words.

"No. He left all his stuff here and he never goes off to the bar without telling me first. Or calling me. We may not be winning any family awards any time soon, but he knows to call me at least if he's going somewhere. But he didn't, Ellen. He's just gone and I don't know what to do." Sam was aware how childish he sounded at that moment, but he was nineteen! And while nineteen year olds could smoke if they wanted to, they still couldn't drink, so he still needed his Dad around to keep him on the straight on narrow, right? It was okay to act like a kid at times.

"Alright sweetie, just calm down. I'll see if Ash knows anything, okay? I'll call you back when I know something. And Sam? Don't go doing anything stupid, you hear?" Ellen's voice took on that motherly tone she sometimes used when talking to him. She took pity on the fact his Mom died during his birth and took it upon herself to act like his mother when the time called for it. He was secretly glad for that fact, because nineteen years of living with a man-shaped hunk of testosterone was getting hard to cope with.

"Yeah. Kay, Ellen. I won't." Sam promised as he hung up, but it was a flimsy promise riddled with holes. Like Hell he wasn't going after his Dad. He wasn't losing the only member of his family he had left, even if said member and himself didn't get along much at all.

It was three gruesome hours later when his phone finally rang again. He practically flew from the bed he was laying on to grab his phone off the table and flip it open in record time.

"Ellen?" He asked hopefully.

"Yeah, Sam, It's me. Ash said that some weird things have been going in the region of South Dakota that you're campin in. Things like people vanishing and all. Look, I know you're worried about your Dad, but be smart about this Sam. Some rabid bear or something is out there killing folk. Why don't you tell the police about your Dad and let them handle this?"

Sam held his breath for a minute before slowly releasing it. The news didn't sound good. A rabid animal killing people and dragging them away into the woods? And from their motel room? Sam doubted that any animal would be able to drag his Dad anywhere, at least not without a fight. But there was no sign of one in the small motel room. Like Sam said before, his Dad just vanished.

"Yeah. Sure, Ellen, you got it. The police can handle this one. I think they're better suited for hunting down wild animals anyways." Sarcasm was leaking into his tone, but he tried to hide it from Ellen. Like Hell he was letting the police handle this. The police could barely find the nearest donut shop. No, he'd find his Dad on his own.

"Alright, Sam. Thanks. I don't think I could take it if something happened to you too." There was no hint of suspicion in her voice as she spoke. Maybe Sam was better at lying than he thought.

"Sure thing." Sam flipped the phone closed and tossed it carelessly onto the sheets.

He ran a weary hand down his face and glanced outside. The moon smiled back at him in the sky, its white glow illuminating the forestry outside the motel. Shaking his head, Sam stalked over to his Dad's duffel bag and rifled through it, pushing away clothes and papers until he found what he was searching for.

The silver metal of the Desert Eagle glinted in the moonlight as he slipped the licensed weapon into his waistband. He had been hunting with his Dad before, but had never shot anything. He could never bring himself to shoot the poor deer as it ran through his crosshairs, something that his Dad constantly berated him for.

Still, if he was going to rescue his Dad from some rabid, wild bear or wolf, then he was going to need some sort of weapon. He pulled the hunting knife out next, the thing his Dad used to skin his prey, the thing that he hated to see. Nevertheless, he slipped the blade into his boot and turned towards the door.

His chest expanded with the huge breath he took as he tried to calm his racing nerves, and then deflated as he let the breath out slowly. It was a calming technique this Dad taught him along with martial arts. He would always say that you needed to be calm in a fight, because anger made you sloppy.

It was practically the only thing that Sam was grateful that his Dad taught him. He used to be small for his age and people used to pick on him at school for it, but he surprised them by putting them all on their asses. Now though, he was at least six feet tall and still growing, so no one picked on him anymore, especially since he started working out.

Shaking himself from his thoughts, he took one last look around the motel room before walking out the door and locking it behind him, determination shining in his eyes as he set off towards the woods. He said a silent apology to Ellen for breaking his promise before the darkness of the forest swallowed him up.

**()()()()SPN()()()()**

Dean hated werewolves with a passion. He hated the way that they were once normal, innocent people who suddenly became monsters that he had to put down. He hated the way that their bodies morphed and changed with the sound of snapping bones, but how their eyes didn't. He hated how those same human eyes stared you down with an _inhuman_ hunger. But most of all? Dean hated how Goddamn hard they were to freaking kill.

"Seriously." Dean spat, answering his own thoughts as he waded through the underbrush silently. He had been tracking this same pack of werewolves for weeks now, but every time he got close they always slipped away. His Mom wouldn't have had any trouble if she was still alive, but she had bought the farm last year hunting a shapeshifter. It was a rookie slip-up that had his Mom six feet under right now.

"Shut up." Dean whispered, not caring that he was currently answering his own thoughts. He had been pretty messed up when his Mom died, she was the only family he had left. Well, besides Bobby, who stood as practically a father to him. His real father? His real father was a bastard who ran away before he was old enough to even remember what he looked like, or so Bobby told him. The older hunter constantly told him how the last time he saw Dean's real father, it was with a loaded shotgun poised to shoot the man.

His Mom though, never spoke one bad thing about him. She always used to tell him how his Dad was some kind of hero. She used to tell him how his Dad simply wanted an easier life, he never was one for hunting, and so he walked out and took that life for himself. Every time she spoke of him, she'd get this expression on her face. It was a mixture of pride, longing, and sadness. It was such a deep sadness that Dean couldn't help but hate his father for putting it on her face.

A twig snapped somewhere off to his right, and he swung his pistol towards the sounds. The Taurus was loaded with silver bullets just itching to punch right through some evil werewolf's heart.

Another twig snapped, further up and he followed the sound's progress, tracking it with his gun. It was getting steadily closer and he was beginning to think that this werewolf was asking to die, with all the racket it was making as it walked. Usually werewolves, or any other supernatural creature for that matter, were extremely stealthy.

Dean decided to count his blessings and crouched behind a bush, his Taurus trained on the spot he knew the werewolf would be walking through.

As soon as he saw movement, he was pulling the trigger and letting a bullet fly at the coming werewolf. The only thing was, was that the thing that came from the trees wasn't a werewolf, it was a person. A human. A kid.

He noticed just in time to pull his shot wide a bit, so that instead of hitting the kid's chest, it hit his shoulder instead. Dean heard the kid cry out in pain as the bullet tore into his shoulder and slammed him into the ground.

"Shit!" He muttered angrily, because seriously, what the Hell was a kid doing in the middle of the woods at midnight? Still, his hunter instincts had him racing over to the kid to see if he was okay. "Hey! Kid! You okay? Talk to me."

He put a hand on the kid's unwounded shoulder and shook him lightly. The last thing he needed right now was the werewolf catching the scent of this kid's blood and coming over here.

Dazed eyes a stunning blue-green opened to stare at him confusedly. He opened his mouth to ask the kid again when suddenly the kid's eyes cleared and he found himself looking down the barrel of an impressive looking Desert Eagle.

"Whoa! Whoa." Dean pulled his hands away from the boy and put them up, palm out, in a non-aggressive manner. "I thought you were a wolf. I didn't mean to shoot you, I swear. Are you okay?" He spoke truthfully, eyeing the gun and going over in his mind how fast he could disarm the kid if it came to it.

"Yeah…right. You think I'll…just believe that?" The kid ground out in obvious pain as he writhed on the ground, trying to relieve the pressure from his hit shoulder. "Die…you son of a bitch." The words were just a whisper, but the report of the gun was deafening.

Dean stared in blank amazement at the smoking barrel of the gun, fully expecting the pain to hit any second now, but it never did. He glanced over his shoulder to see a hole in the tree behind him. A warning shot then.

He looked back at the kid, and his eyebrows rose in astonishment at the look of utter frustration in his expression. He couldn't possibly be that bad a shot to have missed at point blank.

"Damn it." The kid muttered weakly as the gun dropped back to his side. He looked up at Dean with eyes scarily similar to those of a kicked puppy, and it pulled at something inside him. Something he never even knew was there.

"Look…uh…kid. Look, kid, I swear I didn't mean to hit you. If I was meaning to shoot you, you'd be dead with a hole through your heart right now." The words were out of his mouth before he had time to consider what it might sound like to the boy he just shot.

A look of disgust crossed his face. "Oh that's reassuring." He mumbled, his voice fading slightly.

Concern for the kid hit him out of nowhere, and he suddenly felt the need to make sure this kid was okay. "Okay, uh…" Dean started.

"Sam." The kid helpfully supplied.

"Okay, Sam, can you stand? Walk?" Dean scooted closer in case he needed to help.

"It's just a flesh wound. I'm not an invalid." The kid, or Sam, said as he pushed up slowly from the ground, biting his lip to keep from crying out. Dean got behind him and used his hands to help lever Sam up while simultaneously checking Sam's back for an exit wound.

He cursed silently when he found none, meaning that the bullet was still lodged inside the kid's shoulder. The threat of infection was high with a wound like that, and worry started eating at his nerves.

Wait a minute. Why did he even care?

Some random kid shouldn't be wandering around in the woods in the first place.

"Why were you out here in the woods in the first place?" Dean decided to voice his thoughts as he got Sam standing.

"Picking daisies." Sam responded so seriously that it had Dean's head snapping towards the boy in disbelief. He was ready to go off on the kid when he saw the mixed look of amusement and caution on the boy's face.

So he didn't trust Dean. Hell, Dean wouldn't trust the guy who shot him either, accident or not.

The kid sighed. "I'm looking for my Dad. He went missing today, and friends told me that some rabid animal has been taking people in the woods. So, I came out here myself. My Dad is the only person I have left, I can't lose him too." Sam continued as he leaned against a tree for support.

Dean's eyebrows drew down in thought for a moment when a snapping twig had his attention focusing on the direction of the sound. His Taurus was drawn out in front of him before he even blinked.

"What-" Sam started to say, but stopped when an ear-splitting scream shattered the relative quiet of the night.

Immediately Dean's mind was working, determining that the source of the sound was close by, which meant that the werewolf was close by too.

Sam's mind, though, was on other things. "Dad!" He shouted in horror before taking off towards the sound. The idiot didn't know what he was dealing with!

"Wait, Sam!" Dean shouted futilely at the retreating figure, his feet already racing after the taller kid.

A shot rang out ahead of him followed by angry growling. "Shit!" Dean cursed as he broke through the tree-line and out into a grassy clearing. The moon illuminated the dark fur of the werewolf as it lunged at Sam, who was firing his Eagle at the beast sporadically.

Every one of his bullets hit their mark in the wolf's chest, but they weren't silver, so the wolf didn't react at all. It leapt at Sam again and took him down this time, its gaping jaws coming down to snap at Sam's face.

Sam managed to get his hands around the wolf's neck though, and he squeezed powerfully, keeping the snapping jaws away from his flesh.

Taking action, Dean lifted the Taurus and took aim. His expert marksmanship had the fired bullet ripping straight through the wolf's human eye. It screamed in pain and retreated off of Sam, but it didn't go down. No, only a shot to the heart would do that.

Its unwounded eye came to land on him, hatred burning in its depth, before the beast was charging at him. Hastily steadying his weapon, Dean took aim again. He pulled the trigger the moment the wolf leapt at him. The silver bullet punched through the werewolf's heart, killing it instantly.

He rolled out of the way as the body crashed into the ground next to him, bloody jaws snarling at him even in death.

When he came up from his roll, his eyes were immediately on the spot where Sam had been laying, only to find the kid gone. A quick search of the clearing had his eyes landing on Sam's hunched form. The kid was leaning over something and his body was shaking violently.

As Dean cautiously approached, he realized it was a man, an older man. He closed his eyes in disgust, shutting off his view of sightless dead eyes and bloody, pale skin. He couldn't see Sam's dead father, but he could hear the heart-wrenching sobs that ripped from Sam's throat as he hugged the man's body to himself.

After a while, Dean attempted to approach Sam and pry him away from the cooling body only to have Sam scream at him to leave him alone.

He contemplated burning the werewolf's body and walking away, but memories of a year ago when he himself was hugging his Mom's body and begging her to wake up surfaced in his mind. He knew how Sam felt right now, and he knew that being alone was the last thing the kid needed, so he stayed by Sam's crying form until blood loss and emotions took the kid down. He fell asleep crouched in the grass with his father's dead body clutched in his arms.

Dean looked up at the grinning moon and cursed life for being so unforgiving.

Gathering the sleeping kid in his arms, Dean stood and started back the way they came. He didn't know why, but he felt a need to keep the kid safe. Maybe it was because of the similar situation they both witnessed, the same tragedy. Or maybe it was because of another reason entirely.

That something pulled inside of him again, and it took him a while to place the feeling as protectiveness. It stretched inside him like a long unused muscle just beginning to warm up again.

He glanced down at the kid in his arms again. "We're alike, you and I. We both have nobody left, so I guess we gotta stick together now." A small smile appeared on his lips despite the grim circumstances. It was the first time he smiled since his Mom died. It was the first time he felt like there might be a purpose to living again.

**()()()()SPN()()()()**

Angry blue eyes tracked the retreating figure of the two humans. A low keen sounded from the werewolf's throat as it looked down at the fallen member of its pack. The leader of the pack turned sky blue eyes on the remaining members, a promise of revenge running through their snarls and growls as they dispersed into the woods.

**Yup, so that's it for chapter 1. If you want me to continue it, or to trash it, just let me know Idk if the idea is a good one or not, but I'll let you decide. Let me know what you think! Thanks~ Thorn**


	2. Making the rules

**So thanks for the reviews, story alerts and the favorites! Here's the next chapter  
R&R please!  
Disclaimer: Nope…don't own them**

"Hey, you awake?" A familiar, gruff voice asked from beside where he lay. Sam turned his head towards the voice, his eyes still closed, and grunted noncommittally.

"I'll take that as a yes, then. You okay to sit up? I need you to drink something. You lost a lot of fluids last night."

That's funny. His Dad was acting unusually nice this morning. Usually his Dad would slap his feet and shout at him to 'get his ass moving' before leaving without another word in his direction. Maybe he did something right this time, and his Dad was proud of him for once.

The thought alone had his heavy eyelids lifting up, but the face that swam into view wasn't his Dad's. No, it was the face of the man from last night, and the look in his forest green eyes had the events of the other night rushing back into his mind in gruesome detail.

Sam remembered the feel of his Dad's cold body in his arms. He remembered the blank, unseeing look in his Dad's eyes and the bloodstained clothes. He remembered the bloody hole in his Dad's chest where his heart used to be.

Sam shot up from the bed he was laid out on, a cry of both denial and acceptance spilling from his throat as salty tears ran in rivers down his cheeks. Immediately, hands were on his arms and holding him back.

A reassuring voice filtered through the sound of his sobs as the hands on his arms rubbed soothingly. "Hey, come on, you're okay. I know that it sucks, believe me, I do, but it'll get better. You aren't alone, okay?"

The words slowly sank in, and his tears finally stopped flowing. He wiped at his eyes angrily, getting rid of the remaining moisture before looking at the man in front of him. "How can you say that? My Dad…died…last night, and he was the only person I had left. There's no one left. No one." More tears threatened to fall, but he fought them back stubbornly.

"What are you talking about? You have me now. You and I are gonna stick together from now on, kay? My name's Dean." The man pulled a hand back and held it out towards him.

Sam looked at the offered hand blankly for a few seconds before grabbing it tightly. He needed something to hold onto right now, and this man, Dean, was offering himself up as Sam's anchor. He squeezed harder, but if it was painful, Dean didn't say anything about it. Instead he just looked at Sam with such understanding that it actually helped him feel better. They say misery loves company.

"Sam." He stated, even though he already told Dean. "But why? Don't your parents care? You can't just show up at their house one day lugging a kid with you." Sam released his hold on Dean's hand and brought his own down to rest in his lap.

Dean smirked at him then with a twist of his lips so perfect that Sam wouldn't be surprised if he _invented_ smirking. "You don't have to worry about that. My parents are both gone. It's just me…well, now you too I guess. So it's fine, alright? Don't worry."

Sam's eyebrows rose skeptically. "You're alone? How old are you? Twenty-two?-"

"Three." Dean sat on the bed next to him.

"Twenty-three." Sam amended. "Still, you're twenty-three and you think you can take care of us both? What are you? Superman? Plus, I don't even know you. You might be some pedophile creep preying on little kids."

The look Dean tossed him was nothing short of amused. "Superman? Hell no, I don't wear tights. I'm more like Batman. And anyway, if I _was_ some kind of pedophile, which I'm not, then don't you think I would have done something to you by now? I mean you were passed out in my room for over five hours, that's plenty of time to…do something. I'm telling you I'm not like that. You can trust me."

The news surprised Sam, he had forgotten about his wound completely. Turning blue-green eyes towards the bullet hole in his arm, he pulled the shoulder of his shirt off to reveal a swath of white bandages. His eyes shot back to Dean, an unspoken question in their depths.

"Yeah I bandaged you up. Good thing you were out of it too, because let me tell you, taking a bullet out is no joy ride. Seriously, it hurts like a bitch. Speaking of, how is it by the way? Any pain? I doused you with some painkillers after I got it out, so you shouldn't be feeling it any time soon, but you never know." Dean stood from the bed again and walked over to a table set up against the far wall.

"Uh…no. No pain or anything." Sam looked at the white bandages and back at Dean. "You really did this? It's practically expert work."

Dean smirked at him again. "Yeah, I did. You really think I go out hunting wolves at night with no concept of first aid? Come on, Sammy, I'm smarter than that." The nickname slipped out easily.

Sam narrowed his eyes but let it slide. "Speaking of wolves, what w_as_ that thing from last night? It sure as Hell wasn't any kind of wolf I've ever seen. I put a whole clip into it and it didn't go down."

Dean sighed, obviously not liking the new topic, as he turned around to rummage through the duffel bag that sat on the table. A second later he pulled out Sam's Desert Eagle and turned back, tossing the weapon towards him.

Sam caught the gun easily with his uninjured arm and looked at it in confusion. "What am I supposed to do with this?"

"The bullets. They were iron, not silver." Dean stated simply as he walked back over to the bed where Sam sat.

"Okaaay. And that matters why?" Sam looked up at Dean questioningly.

"It matters because you need silver bullets to kill that thing."

"Okay still not getting it. Why exactly?"

Dean sighed again and ran a hand through his short hair. "Because that wolf…was a werewolf."

Silence reigned for several minutes as Sam stared at Dean blankly and Dean stared back. He was searching for any lies in the older man's eyes, but was struck speechless when he found none.

"A werewolf."

"Yeah. A werewolf. This might be hard to take in, but you need to know now, because not knowing is only going to put you in danger…Okay, so the thing is, is that every nightmare you ever heard of, they all exist. Werewolves, revenants, chupacabras, ghosts. They all exist, and I hunt them."

Silence fell once again before Sam cleared his throat. "Monsters exist?…okay then."

Dean blinked. "'Okay then'? That's it, you just believe me? No 'you're insane'? Just, 'okay then'? Wow…"

Sam threw a glare at Dean. "Yeah, 'okay then'. I know what I saw, and I know that that doesn't just happen. I held the torn up body of my father in my arms. His heart had been torn from his chest. I think that I've got to face reality here. Even if that reality is more like fantasy. You say you hunt them? Well then so do I now."

"Whoa whoa whoa. You can't just go into it like that. You need to be trained. Being a Hunter isn't just something that happens overnight, Sam. If you do that, you'll die." Dean's voice was beginning to rise with worry. Sam could see that the last thing he needed was another dead person on his hands, especially since he seemed to have taken Sam in.

"Sorry. It's just…these things killed my Dad. I just want…not revenge, but something like justice at least. You know what I mean?" Sam fidgeted on the bed uncomfortably; afraid that Dean would think he was stupid.

"Yeah, Sam, I do. Believe me, I understand. But rushing into things is only going to get you killed. Just…take it slow at first, okay? I'll train you personally, and before you know it you'll be hunting down monsters left and right." Dean walked closer and put a hand on Sam's unwounded shoulder, squeezing reassuringly.

Sam smiled softly and nodded. He was beginning to like this Dean guy, and he was secretly grateful that the man had been nice enough to take him in. If he was left alone in that lonely motel room without his Dad, without anyone, then he probably would have ended up going off the deep end. He looked up at Dean again and smiled wider this time, happy when Dean smiled back at him.

**()()()()SPN()()()()**

One week later, Sam and Dean were still at square one on regards to the remaining werewolves' location, and it was getting on both their nerves. Dean had looked up from the computer screen to find Sam making paper airplanes out of the research papers and immediately forced them out of the small room. They both needed to get out of the confined space and do something, so Dean took Sam out to the snack shop a few blocks down.

"Where are we going, Dean?" Sam whined as he trailed behind the older man.

"Stop complaining. We're getting some air. Whether you like it or not, we hit a roadblock with this damn case. These werewolves are playing it safe." Dean tossed back over his shoulder, the rusty shop looming up in front of them.

Sam stopped in front of the store, his bitchface out in full force. In the little time Dean had gotten to know Sam, he grew used to the bitchfaces that the kid was constantly pulling at him. "I'm not going in there. I'm gonna end up with five different diseases or some kind of new life-form growing from somewhere it has no right to grow."

He rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Oh come on. It's not _that_ bad." Sam's eyebrows lifted further as his lips thinned into a small line. "God, fine, you don't want to come in? Then stay out here like a little bitch. I'll be out soon, just gonna grab something to eat." He took off towards the entrance without a backwards glance.

"You're a jerk!" Sam yelled from the parking lot as the door swung shut behind him.

Dean shook his head. That kid really got on his nerves at times. Blowing out an angry breath, he walked down the aisles as his eyes traced the shelves for some pie. A smile broke out on his face when he spotted a large apple one in a plastic container starting up at him from the shelf. Snagging the sweet, he made his way to the counter, grabbing a newspaper on his way there.

"Hi. How are you today?" The clerk, a pretty young girl, smiled at him dazzlingly.

"Good. Better now, though." He turned his own smile on her and a small blush crept into her cheeks. She was stunning.

"That your brother and his friends outside? I heard you two bickering earlier." She commented as she rang up the two items. "That'll be two thirty-five."

Dean was handing her the money when her words sank in. "What? My brother? No, no, we're just…ah…friends. Wait, friends? What friends?" He craned his neck to see outside, because Sam sure as Hell wasn't with any friends when he left him.

"Those boys outside. He's talking to them. You know, you should tell him not to hang out with them, I know those boys and they aren't the kind of people you want as friends." She added, leaning over the counter to show off her twins as she handed him his items, but he wasn't paying any attention to her at the moment.

Dean grabbed the bag from her hands and jogged outside, leaving the girl behind without another thought. His green eyes were full of hostility as they landed on the group of delinquent teens surrounding Sam.

"Just leave me alone!" Sam's panicked voice had his blood boiling with anger. He stalked towards the laughing boys with an expression that gave new meaning to the saying "if looks could kill".

"Hey brats. We got a problem here?" He growled, dropping the bag in favor of freeing up both hands should a fight break out.

All six of them turned surprised faces towards him, immediately taking in the new threat. A few of them took a step back at the murderous expression on his face, but the others simply looked at each other before turning back to him.

"And who are you? You don't got no business here. Get the fuck outta ere before I rearrange your face." Cockiness was rolling off the boy in waves and his friends laughed and sniggered at Dean.

"Dean!" Sam shouted from behind the group of guys, still out of Dean's sight.

"You shut up!" A thud sounded followed by Sam's pained cry. "Crying for your boyfriend? You little slut." A second thud had Dean pulling his gun and pointing it at the kid's faces.

"Touch him again and I swear to God I'll kill you." Collective curses ran through the group of kids at the sight of Dean's Taurus.

The boy in front though, the same one who spoke before, simply lifted an uninterested eyebrow at the weapon. "Go ahead, but the instant you fire that gun, your boyfriend is dead. My guys got a knife on him right now and if any of us go down? He dies."

Dean hesitated for a moment, lowering the gun a fraction of an inch, but it was all the kid's needed to regain their confidence. "Yeah, see? He won't do it, Jason. He won't do it because his boyfriends in danger. What a bunch of lies. He just doesn't want us touching him, he wants him all to himself. Ain't that right, lover boy?" The kid on the right spoke, hitting the kid in the center, Jason, in the shoulder playfully. The other boys snickered to themselves and grinned.

Dean's lips pulled up in a snarl. "He's not my damn boyfriend you freaks. He's…" Dean fumbled for something to say when the clerk's words came back to him. "He's my brother, and I swear to you I _will_ put your asses on the ground if you touch him again."

As if a switch was flipped, all the boys went silent, casting nervous glances at Jason. Jason, their obvious leader, clenched his jaw but remained silent for a long time. Finally, he lifted his head to stare Dean straight in the eyes. "Fine. We're leaving."

Dean was expecting more of a fight, but nevertheless was thankful that he didn't need to get physical with a bunch of teens. He tucked his gun back into his waistband as the group fled through the parking lot and disappeared from view.

Instantly, he was at Sam's side, who was sitting on the ground as if he couldn't stand. "Sammy? You okay there, buddy?" Worried green eyes ran over him, looking for any injuries. "Sam?" He asked again when Sam didn't respond immediately.

"I'm okay. Really, I'm fine. Thanks for…you know."

Dean put his hands under Sam's arms and pulled the kid to his feet, laying a hand on his shoulder to steady him when he swayed slightly. "Yeah don't mention it. You sure you're okay? Positive? Where did they hit you? You're not bleeding, are you?" The questions fired off at rapid speed as he looked Sam over.

"Jesus, I'm fine. What are you, my mother?" Sam batted away his hands.

He was about to retort when the sound of clicking shoes alerted him to the presence of another person, and he jerked his head up, protectiveness surging forward again. He was reaching for his gun when he noticed it was just the clerk. She approached quickly, the twins bouncing as she jogged over.

"Oh my God! I saw what happened! Are you okay?" She came to a stop by Dean, but paid him no attention as she grabbed Sam's chin in her hand and turned his face to the left and right, checking for damage.

"M' fine." Sam mumbled, surprised at the sudden appearance of a female who was now touching his face.

"Yeah. He's okay now." Dean's tone held a warning note. He wasn't very comfortable letting anyone too close to Sam at the moment. Belatedly he realized that he was fast developing overprotectiveness towards the kid that might be considered unhealthy, but the thought didn't bother him as much as it should have.

The woman looked over at him quickly, read the look in his eyes, and backed off, stepping back at least five steps away from Sam. "I thought you said you weren't brothers. Liar. I heard you tell Jason that you were, and I could totally tell. That kind of protectiveness can't be found anywhere else. I would know." She said fondly as she alternately stared at both of them.

"Oh really? How so?" Suspicion was creeping into his voice and he inched closer to Sam, putting himself in between Sam and the girl just in case.

"Well Jason used to have a younger brother. He was such a nice kid back then, you know? His little brother, Tanner, was the world to him. And that kid was protective like you wouldn't believe. I don't think I've ever seen that level of devotion towards someone before. Well, until now maybe. I saw the way you defended Sam today and I've got to say, you must have reminded Jason of himself. That's why he backed off."

Dean looked over at Sam to find him staring back, and a silent understanding passed between them. "Yeah, we're brothers. And we look out for each other, so that's why I didn't go telling you. I'm not quick to trust anyone." Funny how that didn't seem to apply to Sam, he had always trusted the kid for some reason. Maybe he was going soft.

The clerk smiled and stuck out her hand. "Veronica. It's nice to meet you. If you're staying in town and ever need anything, don't hesitate to stop by. I know a lot about everything and everyone in this town. I could help out if you ever needed it."

"Dean. And thanks for the offer, we may just hold you up on that." He grasped her hand and shook it politely.

Veronica turned to Sam next and nodded at him. "Nice to meet you, Sam. Don't let this brother of yours boss you around too much, okay?"

Sam smiled awkwardly but shook her hand too before retreating back to Dean's side.

"Alright then, boys. Hope I'll see you around sometime." Veronica waved goodbye and turned, practically skipping back towards the store.

"What was with that, Dean? She thinks we're brothers? Do we look alike?"

Dean turned away from the store and started back towards the motel, Sam following along beside him. "I don't think it's that. I think it's more the behavior or something. Don't ask me, Sammy. People are weird."

"Hmm." Sam agreed, but a small frown was forming on his lips.

Dean glanced down at his unhappy expression before throwing an arm over his shoulder and ruffling his hair. A surprised laugh issued forth from Sam's now-grinning mouth as he pushed at Dean playfully.

"You know, Sam. We could be brothers if you wanted to. It's not like anyone could tell us otherwise, right? We make the rules now, so it's okay if you wanted to."

A huge grin lit up Sam's face like the sun, and his dimples made him look years younger than he was. The sight of Sam's happy face had his own face breaking out into a grin. Man that kid had one contagious smile.

"You mean it? We could be brothers? We'd have to be Sam and Dean Winchester though, because you didn't have a dad, so we get my Dad's name by default. Unless you wanted to keep your last name, then I'd be okay with that too, so long as we get to be brothers. I've never had a brother before, Dean. Have you? Do you know what it's like? Do you think I'd make a good brother?" Sam prattled on worriedly as they walked, but Dean could tell how genuinely happy and exited the kid truly was.

All Sam wanted was a family, and so Dean would be that family, because he was willing to give Sam anything he wanted. No matter what it took. As far as he cared, Sam was his little brother now, and he didn't need blood to prove that.

"Nah, Sammy. You're a great brother. I've never had one, but I can tell that you're the best, because that's what big brothers do. Plus, Winchester is a badass last name, like the rifle and all." Sam beamed at him and threw his arms around Dean's waist in a bear hug.

"Well I can tell that you're the best too, because that's what little brothers do."

"Alright you big wuss. Get off me before this turns into an even worse chick-flick moment." Dean laughed as Sam tightened his hold in reply. "Yeah, yeah. Fine, let everyone think we're a couple or something." He groaned in feigned annoyance, but he couldn't hide the smile on his face as they walked down the deserted road back towards the motel.

"Thanks, Dean. For everything." The sincerity in Sam's voice had a warm feeling spreading in his stomach.

"Don't thank me, Sammy. I wouldn't change my decision for the world."

A comfortable silence fell over them as they continued their trek back towards the motel, the orange sun sinking in the sky and bathing the earth in a red glow as they walked on, huge smiles adorning both their faces.

**Okay so this chapter was no action, sorry, but I felt like Sam and Dean needed to grow a bit as 'brothers' before they jump into a hunt or anything. So just let me know what you think thanks~ Thorn**


	3. the Truth hurts

**Thanks for all the great reviews so far Here's the next chapter.  
R&R please!  
Disclaimer: Only own my mistakes**

"Come on, Sammy. Come at me." Dean threw his hands up in a fighting pose and punched the air. "You want to get better? Spar with me then."

Sam rolled his eyes from where he sat on the couch, going over information on werewolves for the twentieth time. "Dean, you just want to fight because you forgot your damn pie back at that store last night."

Dean froze, glaring at the back of Sam's head. "I swear, Sam, it's like some outside force is keeping me from pie or something. It seems like I haven't been able to actually e_at_ it since forever, even though I buy the damn thing every chance I get. It's not fair." His voice was edging on a whine when Sam gave in and turned around.

Assessing blue-green eyes met pouting emerald ones. Sam sighed and stood from the couch, stepping around the old furniture and approaching Dean slowly. He recognized the real reason behind Dean's need to fight; he was still on edge about the whole Jason deal.

"Fine, Dean, but I'm warning you, you're gonna get your ass kicked." Sam smiled crookedly as he stepped into his own fighting stance, confidence dancing in his eyes.

Dean barked a laugh and slid closer. "Sammy, Sammy, Sammy." He shook his head. "You won't ever be able to kick this fine ass. Not in a million years."

Sam raised an eyebrow, "Yeah? We'll see about that." He said as he threw a sharp jab at Dean's face.

Surprise registered in his green eyes but didn't stop Dean from throwing up a neat block to deflect the attack. "Where'd you learn to punch like that?" He grabbed the next punch Sam jabbed at him and pulled on Sam's arm, dragging him closer, and threw a leg out, tripping Sam as he stumbled by.

The younger hunter fell to the ground with a grunt but was on his feet again in seconds, hopping on the balls of his feet as he circled around Dean. "My Dad taught me how to fight. He was a Marine."

Dean nodded thoughtfully, simultaneously throwing a punch of his own at Sam's abdomen. Sam stepped back hastily, dropping his arms to guard his stomach from the hit but was too slow to dodge the punch. He staggered back a few steps, his arms singing in protest, and kicked a leg out at Dean's shins.

The older hunter easily dodged the kick and swiped out a leg of his own, catching Sam in the back of the knees and dropping him to the floor again. Sam hissed in annoyance and came up swinging, throwing a right hook at Dean's face, but he simply ducked under the hit and stepped up into Sam's guard. A gentle, yet firm push had Sam falling back again, this time crashing into the sofa and tipping it over. He landed on the ground in a tangle of limbs and pillows.

"Where's that ass kicking you promised me, Sammy?" Dean sniggered at Sam's embarrassed expression.

"Shut up." Sam growled half-heartedly as he rummaged around on the ground with his hand, grabbing a pillow and slinging it at Dean. Dean batted the object away; eyebrows raised, and approached Sam.

"Come on, aren't you better than this?" He asked, walking up to stand at Sam's legs.

"Aren't _you_?" Sam smiled victoriously and lashed out with his longer legs, hitting Dean in the shins and bowling him over. Dean grunted in surprise as he fell, landing on all fours on the carpeted ground.

"Damn. You caught me off guard. Nice job." Dean praised as they both climbed to their feet.

"Thanks. Coming from someone like you that's a compliment. Seriously though, I thought _I _was good at fighting, but man dude you kicked my ass." Sam smiled, righting the couch and placing the pillows neatly back.

Dean huffed. "I told you, Sammy. This ass? Is something no one can kick. Now get your shit together, I'm takin a shower and then we're heading over to the station. You know, get some information on if these werewolves have attacked any other innocent bastards. And if they have, then this is your first day as a real hunter. I'll show you the ropes of impersonating a federal officer, but then we're seeing just how good you do." Dean watched him fix the couch before turning around towards the bathroom.

"It's _well _Dean. How _well_ I do." Sam absently corrected, concentrating on fixing up the pillows perfectly.

Dean paused, looking over his shoulder at Sam. "Fine then, you grammar Nazi. We'll see how _well_ you do." His eyes narrowed as he watched Sam place and replace the pillows until they were perfectly set up on the couch. "Man, OCD much?" He turned back around, a fond smile on his lips, and headed towards the bathroom.

Sam glared up at his retreating figure, straightening and stalking towards him. When he was right behind Dean, he kicked out a leg, connecting with Dean's ass and sending him sprawling through the door and into the bathroom. Stunned green eyes swung around to land on him and Dean's incredulous voice rang out. "Dude! What was that for?"

Sam just smiled innocently at him before smirking. "That ass? Just got kicked."

Dean groaned in understanding, "So not funny, Sammy. So not funny."

Sam's lips pulled into a smile as laughter threatened to explode. "You gotta admit. It's kinda funny."

Dean glared at him before swinging the door closed on his face, but not before Sam saw the grin on Dean's own face and the laughter in his eyes.

**()()()()SPN()()()()**

The rumble of the Impala's engine cut off as it pulled to a stop in front of the South Dakota Police Department. Dean unbuckled his seatbelt and handed Sam a fake I.D, pulling out his own and shoving it in his pocket.

"Alright, so what's the story?" He asked as Sam took the I.D. from his hand and looked it over.

"Uh, we're FBI, which I still don't think is going to work, Dean. I mean, they think an animal has been doing this, so why would the FBI get involved?"

"Sam. I promise it'll work. Come on, when am I ever wrong?" Dean nudged Sam's shoulder. "Besides, the police here aren't very bright, if you know what I mean."

Sam looked at him unsurely, but continued. "Um, okay. So, we're FBI investigating the killings of townspeople, and we need to see the records of all victims, so we can see if they have any family in the area that we can go talk to. But we tell the police that we need to 'investigate' all members of the victims' families, because we think a human may be behind the killings." He looked to Dean for approval, and smiled when Dean nodded at him with pride.

"That's it, Sammy. You've got it down. I think you'll be better at this than I originally thought, and if all goes well, then I'll let you talk to the victims' families. One step closer to being on par with me, kiddo." Dean reached over and ruffled Sam's hair. "One last thing. Names? I don't want you accidentally letting my real name slip in case something goes wrong. I'm not saying you would, but we need to cover everything."

Sam nodded in understanding as he leaned away from the offending hand. "Right. I'm Agent Wesson, you're Agent Smith. We don't say each other's first names at all."

Dean looked at him with pride again, something his Dad rarely ever did, and it made him smile, his white teeth gleaming at Dean.

"You got it, buddy. Let's roll." Dean pushed the car door open and slid out, Sam doing the same, and soon they were inside the Department, suited officers milling about the space.

Dean caught Sam's eye and nodded towards the main desk. Receiving a nod in return, he walked in unison with Sam towards the man posted there.

"Hello, officer." The man glanced up, an uninterested look in his eyes as he chomped on a donut, spilling sprinkles everywhere without a care. Dean swallowed in disgust as the man opened his mouth to answer, revealing half chewed food. "I'm Agent Smith, this is my partner, Agent Wesson." He cut the man off before he could spray them with masticated food particles.

"Agent? You guys FBI er somethin?" The man asked, thankfully having swallowed his mouthful of donut.

Sam stepped up then, leaning closer to the sitting man. "Yes, that's right." He pulled his fake badge out and held it out to the officer. "We need to see the records of all victims involved with the forest killings."

The officer inspected Sam's badge before turning to Dean, who obliged and showed his own badge to the officer's skeptical face. Finally, the man sat back in his chair and took another bite of his donut. "Officer McNeil." He introduced. "Them forest killings you say? I thought a damn wolf was doin that. What's the FBI needed for? He mumbled, bits of food spilling from his mouth to land in the sea of sprinkles.

Dean looked away before he lost his breakfast.

"We think it may be a person. The way the hearts were torn from the body is too neat for a wolf to have done. It seems more like the work of a human. We're just checking up with the victims' families." Sam said, sounding surprisingly like a real FBI agent with the curtness of his words and the seriousness in his expression.

Obviously McNeil bought Sam's act, because he nodded thoughtfully for a moment before standing up, sprinkles of all colors raining off of his shirt to land on the tiled floor. "Whatever you say, Agent. That's why they pay you the big bucks. Follow me." He turned and walked away from the desk without a backwards glance.

"Jesus, Sam. Don't they teach officers manners here? Holy crap that was disgusting. I think I'm gonna barf." Dean fake gaged as he watched the surprisingly fit officer McNeil walk away.

Sam smiled, nudging him in the stomach with an elbow. "You should see how _you_ eat sometimes, Dean. Now you know how _I_ feel every time we go out. Come on, let's go." Sam took off after McNeil, leaving Dean frowning at himself, trying to recall how he acted when he ate.

"Agent Smith!" Sam called from further up. Dean looked up to see Sam with McNeil, both of them standing in front of a door down the hall waiting for him.

Shaking himself from his thoughts, Dean followed after them, looking through the windows lining one wall to see the looming forest staring back at him. He thought he saw the glow of yellow eyes watching him from the bushes, but then he was at the door with Sam and the officer, and when he looked back, there was nothing there.

"Let's keep the daydreaming to a minimum why don't we? I've got other things to do, you know." McNeil groused as he unlocked the door labeled "Records" and vanished inside.

"I've got other things to do, you know." Dean mimicked, making a face, and Sam laughed quietly. Dean smiled, happy he could make Sam laugh, and followed his 'younger brother' into the room.

"Alright, Agents. I'm a busy man, so I'll leave you in here to…do your thing." McNeil grumbled "The cases of the victims from the animal…or human killings, are over there." He pointed in a general direction off to their left and darted out of the room.

Dean turned knowing eyes on Sam. "What did I tell you, Sammy? The officers here? Not too bright." Sam laughed, nodding in agreement, and headed off to search for the records they needed.

Dean let him go and turned to search another area. He saw a drawer labeled "animal killings" pressed up in the corner and pulled it open, rifling through the files. He was about to call Sam over when he saw one file labeled "John Winchester" and froze. The last thing he wanted was Sam to be reminded of that night, so he pulled the file out silently, mildly curious about just who this guy was. Sam had told him mixed things about the man, one second saying something about how his Dad was a good man, and then turning around and saying something about how his Dad treated him badly or something.

Dean wanted to see for himself who the man was who called himself Sam's father, but he didn't want Sam here for that, so he remained silent.

"Find anything?" Sam's voice echoed through the small room.

"Nope, nothing yet." Dean lied easily, feeling slightly guilty about it, but he was doing it to protect Sam, so he made himself do it.

He flipped the file open and read the first page.

_John Winchester_

_Age 47_

_Married: __**yes **__no_

_Wife: Mary Campbell (deceased)_

_Children: __**yes **__no_

_Son: Dean Winchester_

_Son: Sam Winchester_

Dean froze completely. His lungs refused to pull in air and he was pretty sure even his heart froze for a second. He read over the page again, and again, and again. He was expecting the words to change, but each time he read it over the words stayed the same, mocking him from the paper. His body burst back into motion and he pulled in a stunned breath.

He took in several more ragged breaths as he tried to make sense of it all. No one ever told him his father's name, or that he had a brother. An honest-to-God little brother. Emotions warred for dominance in his heart, the most prominent ones being anger, betrayal, and happiness.

"Dean? Hey, man, what's wrong?" Sam came up to him then, and his heart decided on happiness. "You find some more? I got some right here that we can use." Sam held up a few files he had found and looked at him with concern, probably because of the huge grin on Dean's face.

"Sam!" He shouted, and Sam jumped back in surprise, looking at him warily now.

"Dean, what-"

"Sam! No, come look at this. Come look at this!" Dean gestured excitedly for Sam to come closer, and shoved the file into his brother's – his _brother's_ – hands. Sam looked at him worriedly for a moment before looking down at the file in his hands.

Dean watched with barely contained excitement as Sam's expression changed from worried to confused to astonished in record time. Blue-green eyes flew up to lock with his own green ones. "Dean?" Sam asked, seeking answers.

"I don't know, Sam. I swear I didn't know. I just found your Dad's…_our_ Dad's file in there and pulled it out. I didn't know, Sam, but we're brothers! Brothers! For real!" Dean felt like shouting with happiness, but forced himself to contain it.

Sam searched Dean's face for a moment before a huge grin, dimples and all, spread across his face. Without warning, Sam lunged forward and wrapped his arms around Dean in a bear hug, a laugh pulling from his mouth.

Dean brought his own hands around Sam, breaking his rule of no chick-flick moments, and laughed along with Sam. "You know that means we're family, right? That means we aren't alone. We're seriously family." Sam's happy voice was muffled in Dean's shirt.

"I know, Sammy. I know." A comfortable silence fell over them as both refused to let the other go. Finally, Dean unwrapped his arms from around Sam and his brother stepped back, breaking their contact. Immediately, Dean felt that long lost sense of protectiveness wash over him. It was like riding a bike, as soon as he got back on the big-brother bicycle again, it all came back to him.

"You know, Sam, I want you to know that even if we weren't blood related, you'd still be my brother, kay? I said you were and that wasn't going to change." Dean said, and was startled when tears filled up in Sam's eyes. "Sam?" He asked, worried he had said something to upset his little brother.

"Dean." Sam smiled, tears spilling over. "Thank you."

"Hey, hey. Don't cry, buddy." Dean pulled Sam to him again and let him dry his face on Dean's shirt. "Now that we _are_ brothers though, that changes some things."

Sam pulled his face from Dean's shirt as he stepped back again and looked up at him. "What does it change?"

"Well for one, since you're my little brother, then that means I gotta watch out for you. Which means no going off on your own." He continued before Sam could protest, anger leaking in and dulling his happiness. "And it also means that our parents didn't tell us for a reason. Why would your Dad…why would _our_ Dad just take you and leave? Because he didn't like the Hunter life? Well why did they separate us? And why didn't my – our Mom tell me about you? I mean, she always told me about Dad, but never about you."

Sam blinked, detecting the slight anger in his voice, and took a step closer to him, his form of silent support. "Well it's not like you can ask her exactly. And we can't ask Dad either. So…I guess we'll just never know."

Dean was silent for a moment before it came to him. "No. Bobby. Bobby would know. He said that he knew Dad, so I'm sure he knew."

Dean turned to leave, searching for the door.

"Bobby? Where does this Bobby guy live?" Sam placed the file back into the drawer and closed it, following after Dean with the other files he had collected under his arm.

"Close." Dean stated simply, walking back out into the hall and towards the exit. Sam trailed along after him, choosing to remain quiet with only his thoughts for company.

The officer rose to his feet as they passed, mouth open to say something, but shrank back at the thunderous look on Dean's face, and in the next moment they were outside and climbing into the Impala. He revved the engine and pulled out of the parking lot, his headlights shining in the direction of Bobby's house as the Impala sped down the road.

**()()()()SPN()()()()**

Dean threw the car door open and flew out of the Impala, stalking up the dirt driveway towards the door of Bobby's house. Bobby's dog barked at him as he walked by and Dean glared at the animal as he ascended the stairs to the door. Knocking reverberated loudly in the quiet area as Dean pounded on the door. "Bobby! Open up, it's Dean."

He glanced over his shoulder to see Sam waving happily at the dog and shook his head, a grin playing on his lips. It immediately vanished though when the door was pulled open and Bobby's grizzled face appeared.

Sam appeared at his side as Bobby looked between them both. "Dean. Who's your friend?" Bobby asked, eyeing Sam uneasily.

Dean glanced over at Sam before looking back at Bobby. "A Hunter. His names Sam. Sam Winchester."

Bobby's eyes widened almost comically, but Dean wasn't in a laughing mood as he stared at the older hunter meaningfully. Bobby looked at Dean again, reading the look in his eyes, and his own eyes dropped to the floor.

"You two had better come inside." Bobby turned and led the way into his house.

Dean looked at Sam again, nodded reassuringly, and followed Bobby into the house. He was ready to hear the truth from the one man he could still trust. He wanted to know why their parents separated him from Sam at birth, and he wanted to know why his Mom never spoke a word of Sam's existence to him. Dean knew Bobby held the answers, and he wasn't planning on leaving until he had them.

**Yay so another chapter done. Hope you all liked it :] let me know what you think, or how I can improve. Thanks for reading ~ Thorn**


	4. Stories told

**So sorry for the sabbatical people! This 'most killer TV show' contest took hold of my life for the past two weeks, but on the bright side, we won! But now that it's over, I'm back to writing again! Oh and I heard the song "The End" by Mayday Parade the other day, and I swear it explains Supernatural practically perfectly. Needless to say I love the song now ;D  
Thanks for all the reviews/story alerts/ favorites 3  
R&R please  
Disclaimer: Still don't own them, but I own a new shirt! That contest was awesome**

"So let me get this straight. My mom and Sam's dad, _our_ parents separated us because they thought it would keep us safe? How does that make any sense, Bobby?"

Dean paced restlessly across the wooden floor as he struggled to process the information his surrogate father had given him.

"Boy, you need to understand that your parents did this for you. I was against it but they insisted that it was the only way to keep you both alive. What was I supposed to say to that? I wasn't about to let you boys die when I had a shot at savin you." Bobby pulled his cap off and ran a weary hand over his head. "We did what was best for you both."

Dean whirled on the older man, green eyes flashing dangerously. "What was the best for us both? You call this life 'the best for us'? That's a load of crap and you know it, Bobby. I was Hunting at the age of four! And Sam wasn't even aware of what's out there in the dark! You call this 'the best'? What if something had gone after Sam, huh? What if he ran into a werewolf like John did? He'd be dead too! All because of your stupid idea to keep us apart."

That seemed to catch Bobby's attention, and his head shot up to pin Dean with a stare. "What do you mean he'd be dead too? You mean Johns dead?"

Sighing, Dean halted his pacing and shot Sam a worried glance. His brother had planted his ass on Bobby's couch and hadn't moved or talked since Bobby started his explanation. "Yeah, he's dead. That's how I met Sammy. John…" He still couldn't bring himself to say Dad, especially now that he knew John's selfish reasoning behind keeping them apart. "John was killed by a werewolf the other day, and Sam went looking for him, almost got himself killed too. Want to know why? Because he didn't know damn werewolves existed!"

He wasn't really mad at Bobby, what was really pissing him off was the fact that Sam could have ended up dead because of their parent's decision. He shot another glance at his brother, who was glaring holes into the worn rug. Dean heard Bobby mutter something unhappy under his breath and he turned his attention back to the problem at hand.

"What do you want from me, Dean?" The older hunter sounded twice his age as he brought sad eyes up towards Dean's face.

The expression on Bobby's face had his anger dimming, but it still burned like acid in his stomach, begging him to smash things and throw some punches. Taking a deep breath, Dean forced himself to reign in his emotions before he dared to open his mouth. "I just want some answers, Bobby. Why would us being together put us in danger? So far it looks like keeping us separated was causing more damage."

Bobby shook his head sadly. "Kid, I'll only tell you what your daddy told me."

That had both Dean _and_ Sam's eyes glued on the man, both of them silent in anticipation of what was going to be said.

Bobby's eyes darted between them for a moment before he gathered himself together. "Alright, now don't go shootin the messenger here, okay?" When he received no answer, he sighed and reluctantly continued, "Guess I'll start at the beginning then. Boys, your mom made a deal with a demon."

Instantly Dean was denying the possibility, shouting at Bobby that he was insane, but a withering glare from the seasoned Hunter had his jaws snapping closed.

"As I was saying, your mom made a deal with a demon, and not just any demon either, but a powerful one. When your parents met, some things happened, not all of them good either. In fact, your dad ended up dead, and so Mary made a deal to bring him back. The price however, was that the demon would come back for her second son."

Both brothers remained silent, shock written across every feature, but neither of them spoke a word and Bobby was forced to continue.

"Mary, bless her soul, didn't want something happening to you, Sam, so she sent you off with John. She sent you away the moment you were born into a life of normal, with no monsters, and no demons. It saved your life too, the demon couldn't find out where you had gone, and he couldn't track killings either because John was out of the Hunter life. We knew it was dangerous, but you don't know what your parents were willing to do for you boys."

Dean shot a look at Sam that the younger boy returned, some unspoken understanding passing between them.

"The last time I saw John was when you, Sam, were probably about three. He came to my house begging me to ask Mary if he could see her. He was practically at his wits end, a total mess, and I told him that he knew what would happen if I did. But John, well he was one stubborn bastard that's for sure, and he started begging me to take you," He nodded at Sam, "off of his hands. And Dean knows the rest from there. I waved a shotgun in his face and told him that the next time he came back I'd blast him full of buckshot."

A pregnant pause filled the air once Bobby finished speaking. Dean's mind was working furiously to comprehend it all, and the look on Sam's face told him he was doing the same. The idea was ludicrous to him, but the echo of truth in Bobby's eyes was enough to convince him.

"So mom never told me about Sammy because…because she wanted Sam to stay safe? Did it ever occur to them that we could _keep_ him safe? We're family. We're stronger when we're together." Dean's voice was quiet with anger.

Bobby didn't grace him with an answer; instead he turned and left the room for reasons unknown to Dean. Without the older man in the room anymore, Dean turned his attention towards the only other occupant.

Sam's eyes were once again riveted to the floor, and Dean could see a hint of loathing in their depths.

His heart dropped to his stomach at the look of hatred in his brother's soulful eyes. _Does he hate me?_ The thought was irrational and hit him out of nowhere, but he couldn't shake the fear that maybe his brother hated him now.

"Sammy?" Dean started, but Sam looked up at him then and the anger was gone, replaced now with such utter devastation that it stole his breath.

"Dean…"

"What's wrong? Sam?" Dean took a step towards his distressed brother, searching his mind for something that may have upset him. _Stupid, Dean. Stupid_. That whole conversation would have made him upset.

"It's my fault." The words took him by surprise and he stopped his advance.

"What's your fault?" Dean asked slowly, but then changed gears with, "Nothing is your fault, Sammy. You hear me? Nothing." The conviction in his voice should have been enough to convince Sam, but he was learning fast that his brother was as stubborn as a mule. Trying to convince him of anything he didn't want to believe was like giving a cat a bath, it just never ended well.

"Yes it is! It's _all_ my fault! Because some stupid demon is after me! Me, Dean, not you. If it wasn't for me you would have lived a happy life with Dad and Mom. You wouldn't have had to live the way you did." Sam shrunk back into the couch, self-loathing written all over his face.

Without conscious thought, Dean found himself sitting next to his brother, his arm thrown over Sam's shoulders in a comforting manner. It was the only invitation Sam needed to turn and bury his tear streaked face in Dean's chest, small sobs shaking his form.

"Sammy, I'm only going to say this once so you better pay attention, okay?" Dean waited patiently for Sam's cries to stop before continuing. "What Mom and Dad did…what Mary and John did, _that's_ the reason for this mess. Not you. Don't you ever think otherwise or I'll have to kick your ass. Understand? This isn't your fault Sam, and I don't blame you for anything."

Red-rimmed eyes turned up to stare into Dean's face, searching for any hint of a lie, but Dean knew he wouldn't find any. He meant every word he said.

Satisfied, Sam pulled away from Dean's embrace just as Bobby came back into the room. The older man was carrying three bottles of beer in his hands, and Dean's eyes narrowed as he approached them.

"Here, boys. Looks like we could all use some booze right about now." Bobby extended a bottle towards Sam but Dean snatched it away before his brother could take it.

"The Hell you thinking, Bobby? Sam's nineteen."

"So?" Bobby asked, dumbfounded.

Dean's eyes grew impossibly large with surprise. "So? _So_ he's not old enough to drink. God, Bobby, what are you thinking?"

"Since when did that stop you? Boy, you were drinking booze at the age of fifteen and don't even try and tell me otherwise. Why ain't Sam allowed to drink? Lord knows we all need one."

He about to go off on the older Hunter when Sam stepped in, "Uh, Dean? I think it's fine if I just have a couple."

Dean cut his eyes towards Sam, words freezing on his lips. "…What? Hell no! You are _not_ drinking underage!"

Dean was staring into Sam's blue-green eyes, fully intending to intimidate Sam into complying, when his brother's expression changed completely. It happened so fast that it left Dean reeling in confusion, one moment he was staring into stubborn hazel eyes, and the next…well he would swear he was looking at a puppy. A puppy with floppy brown hair and blue-green eyes full of emotion.

"Fine Sam, but only one. You are _not_ getting shit-faced the first time you drink alcohol." He didn't know why he even agreed in the first place, but he was at least putting his foot down on this.

The dimpled smile that spread across Sam's face was enough to convince him he did the right thing, and the brotherly punch Sam gave him said without words how thankful he was.

**()()()()SPN()()()()**

"So how bout you boys tell me what happened to John. You said werewolves? They still out there?"

Dean stopped sipping his beer and leaned forward on the couch, Sam doing the same beside him.

"Um…we killed one. But there were others out there. John-" Dean started.

"-Disappeared out of my motel room the other night, I got information on where he might be so I went looking for him-" Sam continued.

"-And I ended up shooting you in the shoulder because I thought you were the werewolf. But then we heard a scream off in the woods-"

"-So I ran towards it, because I just _knew_ it was Dad. I could tell, you know?-"

"-And so I ran after you, because I knew it was the werewolf. And I ended up ganking the wolf, but it was too late-"

"-And Dad was already dead." Sam finished.

A beat passed in total silence. Bobby's eyebrows had disappeared somewhere under his ball-cap as he listened to them explain the situation.

"Well you two sure are brothers. No doubt about that," Bobby grumbled. Sam exchanged a confused look with Dean, who shrugged in response. "Well if that's true, then you boys know that those other werewolves are going to be on your asses, right? They have your scent now, and now that you've killed one of their own, they aren't going to let you off easy."

Dean cursed himself for not realizing that earlier, unknowingly putting Sam in even more danger.

"So we have to kill them?" Sam asked. Bobby nodded seriously at him, worry working its way into the seasoned Hunter's eyes. "Good." Sam stated as he stood from the couch and polished off the rest of his beer, coughing at the burn.

"Where do you think you're goin, idjit?"

Dean rose from the couch too and followed his brother out of the room. "We're gonna hunt down some werewolves, where do you think we're going?"

"Balls!" Bobby cursed as he made to rise from the chair he was currently planted in, but Dean was already out the front door and heading towards his baby.

Sam was already at the trunk, pulling weapons from the stash he held there and shoving them in every pocket he had. Silver blades vanished in the recesses of his clothes and he loaded a pistol with silver bullets before shoving it in his waistband.

"Whoa there, Saminator. I don't think you need that many weapons. Save some for your brother why don't you." Dean appeared at Sam's side and grabbed his own marble-hilted pistol, tucking it in his waistband.

Sam shot him a cursory glance but otherwise didn't acknowledge Dean's presence as he continued to load silver weapon after silver weapon onto his person.

Dean opened his mouth to reiterate himself when a piercing howl tore through the night air. The sound froze the blood in his veins and his heart sped up in his chest. Werewolves. And they were close too.

An answering howl split the night like butter, followed by another, and another, and another, and-

"Sam, run! Back inside now! Go, go, go!" Dean slammed the trunk and spun back towards Bobby's house, making sure that Sam was running before following behind him.

Bobby already had the door thrown open and was angrily gesturing at them to run faster when suddenly his expression changed and he shouted something at them, but the words were drowned out by the deafening snarl that sounded way too close for comfort.

In the next moment a wolf barreled into his side, well either that or a sixteen wheeler, and he was flying through the air. His back collided with the old metal of one of the cars in Bobby's junkyard, and he was pretty sure he blacked out for a moment, because when he opened his eyes all he saw was white.

For an instant he thought he was in a hospital, but then his vision sharpened and he realized the horrible glow was coming from the moon. People thought that the moon was made out of cheese. Well Dean called bullshit on that. The only thing the moon was made out of was evil. Every time it showed up something monstrous came out of hiding and people always ended up dead because of it. Dean hated the moon. He hated the way it seemed to smirk down at him from the heavens like it owned the damn world.

A gunshot split his wandering thoughts apart and jerked him back into reality. The wolf that had taken him down now lay dead at his feet, a pool of blood growing around its still form as the menace in its eyes faded along with its life.

He looked up from the dead beast to see Sam standing a few feet away, pistol pointed at the fallen monster and a wild look in his eyes. Dean rolled painfully off of the crushed car and got to his feet slowly, his eyes still locked on his brother.

"Sammy…look out!" He had seen the gleam of blue eyes looming over his brother a second too late and he was forced to watch in stunned horror as Sam was taken down by a werewolf the size of a truck.

Without even thinking he pulled his pistol out and fired off shot after shot into the werewolf's massive chest. When nothing happened, he switched to firing at the beast's stark blue eyes, but before his bullet could hit its intended mark, another werewolf was jumping up and taking the bullet in its own neck.

Within minutes he was surrounded by at least five of the wolves with no means of escape. He glanced hopefully up at the doorway where Bobby had been standing only to find it empty, and Sam was currently being used as a chew toy by Chewbacca himself.

Well shit. He was well and truly fucked.

**I promise more action next chapter! This chapter was mostly informative and probably boring lol but oh well. I promise to start updating more frequently now, but I do have AP testing soon so it may not be every other day as I promised, but it definitely won't be too long xD Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think~ Thorn**


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